


Blutrunst: La Vie En Rose

by IncurableNecromantic



Category: Original Work
Genre: Edith Piaf - Freeform, M/M, blutrunst, tumblr commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:34:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncurableNecromantic/pseuds/IncurableNecromantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herod and Enoch love each other.  Édith Piaf knows what's up.</p><p>
  <i>A commission for nicodeermus.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blutrunst: La Vie En Rose

The water is hot enough to steam, the radio is singing to itself on the counter, and Enoch Barnes is in his bathtub, sampling the taste of a not at all disrespectable sherry as it lingers on the lips of his treasured dinner guest.

Beast draws away just a bit and the urge to get him back is almost enough to make Enoch do something drastic. But Beast pecks his lips again and smiles as he looks at Enoch, and Enoch’s crisis passes.

Really, the only problem with kissing Beast is that he can’t see Beast’s smile.

Then again, he can feel it, and that is something.

“You’re very good at this,” Beast murmurs. His voice is a little rough and his pupils are blown wide.

Enoch likes to think that those dark holes are stretching their jaws, preparing to swallow him alive. He’s not sure what the exact mechanics of that would look like, but such details hardly matter. Beast might want to eat him alive, and Enoch absolutely wants him to at least have a bite or two, so however he chooses to imbibe, Enoch will not object.

“It’s easy, with a talented partner,” Enoch replies. He presses his own lips together, liking the way they are a little tender. Beast’s gaze sharpens Enoch’s mouth with predatory focus, and it makes Enoch smile.

He pulls Beast closer. Candlelight gleams on wet skin and shifting water.

“Such a pleasure, working with a real artist,” Beast breathes. One wet fingertip lightly presses against Enoch’s lower lip, tracing sensitive skin curved in a smile. Enoch lies still and obedient for him, letting him touch where he likes. “That silver tongue of yours should be immortalized. I ought to write it an ode of some kind.”

“You’re too much,” Enoch grins. Beast kisses him again, and Enoch strongly suspects him of slowly lifting one foot out of the water over the sensation. He smothers his smile in the kiss and lets one hand slide up Beast’s wet back and into his wet hair as their mouths press and slide, soft and hot, entangling.

He is such a miraculously beautiful man. Enoch can’t imagine how he ever thought Beast untouchable and aloof, when he seems to like nothing as much as getting to melt in Enoch’s arms, held against Enoch’s heart, and petted by Enoch’s hands.

It’s completely adorable. Despite being mostly bones, Beast is uniquely suited to being stroked and rubbed and petted like a long, gamine feline. A Halloween beauty, down to his essentials: cat’s back, spider’s limbs, monster’s mind.

And the mouth of an incubus. Enoch hisses as his plague god gives him a good, threatening (promising) nip, somewhere delicate and vulnerable, then soothes the sting with a pass of his hot, soft tongue. Perfection. Beast will happily cover him in bite marks, if Enoch only asks. He already wants to beg.

Enoch catches his mouth again and kissed this beloved nightmare, rooted immovably in his heart.

If Enoch dies in his arms, that is not too bad.

* * *

Herod smiles as he hears Enoch hiss. Oh, his charming host. So utterly irresistible. So utterly perfect.

It is so strange, the way the world bends to please him. Outside of Enoch’s sphere, this vale of tears is overwhelmed with mild mediocrity and shrieking misery, but for Enoch?

Wine is infinitely more delicious and vastly more potent when he tastes it in Enoch’s mouth. Fires burn hotter when they are built by Enoch’s hands. Herod’s own mind works faster when he is with Enoch. His heart deigns to shift his blood at the thought of him.

And everything, from the most vexatious inconvenience to the most radiant pleasure, is better when he views it from within the circle of Enoch’s arms. He can only wonder how much more lovely the world would be if he could just burrow inside Enoch’s chest and wrap himself around his titanic heart.

Enoch’s going to have to eat him, after he’s dead. He’ll put it in the will. He can think of no destiny more beautiful than becoming Enoch’s blood, and no heaven as splendid as a tomb in the chambers of this man’s heart.

Their kiss breaks and Herod breathes quickly, unable to stop smiling. Enoch grins back at him, giving his rump a squeeze. Ooh. What a man.

Herod finds his neck and gives him a soft mouth, just letting his teeth pressed against his skin. Enoch sighs. He’s so sweet, so utterly beautiful. Herod runs his tongue across that eager, throbbing jugular vein, sucking lightly.

Enoch groans and holds Herod against him, locking their hips together and grinding in the hot water. Herod breaks the bite and leans back, wanting to watch him as they rub together.

“Is this how it’s going to be, my love?” Herod breathes, trying to hide the giddiness in his voice. He slides his fingers down beneath the water to toy with Enoch’s hard cock. “Not that I’m objecting, per se, but I need much more of you than what I can get from frotting in a bathtub.”

“Oh, no, sweetheart. Not just this,” Enoch murmurs, voice low and dark. Herod sighs and shivers as Enoch tilts his head and kisses under Herod’s jaw, lips moving slowly down his neck.

“I’ve missed you. I need you everywhere tonight,” Enoch continues, sighing against his skin and holding Herod so close. “Especially inside me. In my hands. Down my throat. In my stomach. My lungs.”

His legs shift apart. Herod bites his own lip and wraps a hand around Enoch’s cock, stroking him. Enoch rolls his hips up.

“I want you to put that gorgeous cock of yours deep inside me,” Enoch goes on, apparently content to get him hard just by talking. “All the way to the hilt. You’re going to have to have me twice, tonight.”

“Oh, mon peche, mon coeur,” Herod breathes shakily, stroking his generous handful, lips kissing Enoch wherever he lands. Mouth, cheek, temple, jaw. “It’d be an honor.”

Enoch draws him back up to his mouth and Herod hums against his lips, half-listening to the radio, which has been playing something all-too appropriate.

“Heureux, heureux à en mourir…” he whispers.

“Des nuits d’amour à plus finir, hmm?” Enoch purrs. “I do hope that’s a promise.”

Herod takes one of his hands and laces their fingers together. His other hand stays where it is, attending to its extremely important business. “Une promesse pour la vie, mon amour. Et dans la mort.”

Enoch quietly laughs at him, squeezes their fingers together, and kisses him again.


End file.
